15 Seconds
by parasitic
Summary: Takes place prior to the Gravitation manga and anime. Ryuichi is flying solo in America. The flow of karma works against him - he changes lives, but so will his life change.
1. Chapter 1

Day 1, 7:30 AM Pacific time  
The plane flight to America is much too long, and the food is terrible. I'm afraid reading will make me dizzy, so all I can really do is listen to music. I've seen the movies a million times, because I get Star access to them anyway, so don't even get started about that. I have some background recordings of my solo singles that are already planned for release, so the best I can do is listen to them and sing in my head. I still can't believe Tohma wanted to compose these songs for me. They just wouldn't have the flavor I want. It's angst. And while Tohma would be all pop-y about it, pop just won't do this time. Sorry, Tohma. But this is all me.

Day 1, 2:30 PM  
The motel is nice and homey. It's definitely American, and I like the change of pace. It's the outdoors I enjoy, though. It's so bright and sunny, and the air is full of energy. It's almost too tense, too harsh, but I feel like I could thrive on it now. Just standing in front of my door, I can see the road, full of fast-looking automobiles competing for domination. The way here was so exciting, too; we'd just sit, for lengths on end, and then the traffic would pick up, and we'd speed along to the next jam. Imagine how it must feel to people who have to experience it every day, the frustration and the adrenaline!

Day 2, 9:00 AM  
The first concert is today, right here in California. According to my new manager, K - he won't tell me his full name - there is a large Asian population here on this coast, so I should get a good start to the tour here. Breakfast in the lounge is nice. The buffet is full of huge berries and exotic fruit that I've never even tasted before. There are lots of sweet-looking baked things and cereal, too. My plate is full of fruit and some simple cooked fish for now. It's all very different and delicious. It feels good, actually, to be somewhere where no one knows you. Certainly, I get a little more than the passing glance, just for the dark clothes, pierced ears, and eyeliner, but I've already seen at least ten people dressed the same way, and with wilder hair colors, too, like something out of a cartoon. A couple tables down, there's even a woman with bright green streaks in her hair, and her face is full of piercings. But, for the most part, nobody cares.  
"Hey, are you the lead singer for Nittle Grasper?"  
Well, that didn't last too long. I swallow my bite of unknown fruit and put down my fork, pen still in hand. Mentally preassembling my English response, I know what's coming, looking at the face of a little Japanese girl standing before me. "Ano... Yes... My name is Ryuichi."  
The little girl holds a magazine out to me. It's a Japanese music magazine, with a photo of Grasper on the cover. "Can I have your autograph?" I take the magazine and scribble my name onto the pull-out poster of the band that I knew was inside. The girl's dark eyes stare up at me. She looks about ten years old, and even in her youth her hair is cut stylishly short and spikey. Actually, it looks a little like Tohma's hairstyle. The girl starts to pout. "Is Grasper really breaking up?" she whines.  
"We already have," I tell her. "I'm here alone."  
"But you were such good friends, weren't you?" The girl grasps her magazine closely.  
I try to smile softly. It feels like a very weak smile, though. "We were very close friends," I tell her still. "I just wanted to try something different, and they didn't want to." She sadly looked away. "I'm sorry, little one. We'll still be friends."  
We are interrupted by a mother's cry. "Himi-chan!" she called out from the lobby.  
The girl turned and waved. "Over here, Mom!"  
The woman came in a green suit to her daughter, assessing my quickly and briefly. "I'm sorry, Sir," she said, "if she bothered you."  
"Not at all," I say. "It's good to know I have fans in far places."  
The mother looks confused. "Mom," says the little girl, "this is Ryuichi Sakuma, from Nittle Grasper, remember?"  
She looks surprised now. "Ah, Grasper? Really? How wonderful!" She turned to me, a smile on her face. "We're both fans. I'm sorry you all had to break up."  
"Really," I tell her, "it's not a problem. Actually, I'm here starting solo. The first concert is tonight."  
"Tonight?" squeals the girl. "Mom, can we go, please?" she begs her mother. She lets herself crash to her knees and puts on such a sad face. "Please, please?"  
Mom picks up her daughter, though it will wrinkle her business suit. "Oh, Sweetie, I'm afraid we may not have enough money just yet to go to a concert!"  
Now that I've met them both, of course I want them to come. This will probably be the only time I do this, but... "I'll do this," I tell them. "What are your names?"  
"I'm Himiko!" volunteers the little girl.  
"My name is Hikari Yasumi. We're actually both members of the fanclub."  
"Fanclub?" I ask. "There is an American fanclub?"  
"A small local one," says the mother. "It supports a few different Japanese artists and bands, but I suppose it's not registered with the other Japanese fanclubs."  
Writing down their names, I decide on my plan. "The concert starts at nine-o'-clock. Please come back here to the Ballroom C."  
Hikari stares at me, as does Himiko. "Re-really?"  
I smile and nod. "I'll meet you then, before I start. Okay?" The little girl smiles widely, and her mother's eyes begin to tear. I can tell they never thought they'd be able to do this before. Right now, I'm just looking forward to being on stage - alone - again.


	2. Chapter 2

Day 2, 9:00 PM  
"Hey. I'm really glad you could gome," I tell Himiko and Hikari, her mother. "I'm so surprised that there are this many people. They're very close to the stage!" Peeking through the curtain, I can see the crowd, composed of male and female of all ages. I'm surprised, too, how many of them aren't even Asian.  
"I did read something," said Hikari, "about Japanese concerts. Even rock concerts are very different from in America. I didn't realize how much so." Himiko looks worriedly at me.  
"Don't worry," I tell them. "I'm excited. I can't wait to be so close to my fans. It will be a rush."  
Strings of drumbeats begin outside as the opening act starts. It's a duo from Japan, and the singer is a charismatic yound man named Koutaro. His voice is incredible; he can sound like a guitar, a trumpet, an oboe, a piccolo. His partner switches between bass guitar and drums, and that's all they need. Koutaro comes past in a pinstriped suit with a pink T-shirt underneath.  
"You'd better go," I say to Hikari. "You won't want to miss this." So, they wave and leave to find a place in the crowd of fans.

Day 2, 9:02 PM  
My performance outfit appears to have been through a shredder. The black denim pants have been effectively torn in at least five places, without letting the garment fall into pieces. The white T-shirt has had its sleeves torn off and has a large symbol of a capital A surrounded by a circle drawn onto it in red and black. Lastly, and unmarred, is a long, plaid suitjacket, decorated with safety-pinned patches and buttons. Yes, this is angsty. That is what I wanted.  
Up front, close to the stage, the attendants are mostly teenaged girls. I am not surprised. They all start screaming with just as much excitement as I want to as I walk onstage.  
"Wow," I say, laughing into the microphone. "There are so many more people here than I expected! Are you as excited as I am?" They scream even more loudly. "Good, good! Ano... Do you want to hear a Grasper song while you are here?" Still they scream happily. "Well, maybe you will! Grasper is not here tonight, though. Just Ryuichi!" They cheer anyway. "Yoshi! All right, let's fly!"


End file.
